Once she felt sated, Marisol’s lupine senses were heightened and alert. She stopped, turned her head slightly, concentrating. In the silence that followed the carnage, she detected the subtle sound of a distant footstep – the soft echo of a crepe-soled shoe contacting the ground. The sound amplified a thousand times as her ears twitched, capturing the nuanced vibrations out of the white noise of the world. Cocking her head, a faint excitement was expressed. Her predatory instincts were still razor-sharp, and the satisfaction of her recent kill only heightened her awareness.

A low growl emanated from Marisol’s throat as faint excitement coursed through her. Her senses, now attuned to the world, allowed her to discern the approaching presence with acute clarity. The anticipation of another potential prey, or perhaps an unexpected witness, fueled the predatory thrill coursing through Marisol’s veins. The scent of death and the lingering echoes of Tisha’s final moments. The hunt was not over, and another prey had entered her domain.

Concurrently, and across town, Candace stepped up to the front office of a motel. She provided the deposit and identification to the clerk as she looked back through the foyer. The young man gave her a nod when he returned her receipt and room key card.

Antonio lingered outside, his gaze roving over passers-by with a kind of hunger. Nia stood near him, leaning against the wall with her eyes closed.

A uniformed police officer patrolled the street, and locals recognized a twenty-eight-year-old Caucasion woman, Sally, immediately. Her gaze hardened when it fell upon the newcomers, and she narrowed her eyes at their bare feet. She strode towards them, and Antonio met her gaze head on.

Antonio murmured, “Nia. Trouble incoming,” as he spotted a woman in police uniform stepping out of her car. Nia spied on the woman, Sally, through partially opened eyes. She moved to intercept Sally before she could say anything.

Nia spoke to Sally first. “Hi! Can I help you?”

Sally attempts to be friendly, “Most places say no shirt, no shoes, no business. This pandemic is masking too. Your feet don’t hurt?”

Nia replied, “Can I share something with you..."

“Officer Winters. Sally Winters.”

“Officer Winters. Our car broke down in the back and our shoes are locked inside. We can’t get them until we can get to a phone for my cousin to bring the spare key.”

Sally’s eyebrows slightly furrowed, forming a barely noticeable crease between them as her brain processed the incongruity between the lie and the truth. Her eyes, usually focused and attentive, momentarily widened in disbelief, revealing a flicker of realization. The corners of her mouth tightened imperceptibly, suppressing the instinctive urge to smirk. Sally’s gaze became more piercing as she fixed her eyes on Nia. Officer Winter maintained a neutral expression, keeping her lips pressed together as firmly and as pleasantly as she could muster. Her checks relaxed from tension as she put on a professional facade. “Might be able to help. Is it just you and him?”

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Nia flashed Antonio an appreciative look. “No. My aunt is getting a room for the night before we hit the road again. My uncle,” she jerked her fingers toward Antonio, “are taking me off to university.”

“Alright.” Sally said. Her rugged two-way radio stayed silent, and her body camera remained off.

Within minutes after disappearing from public view, Nia, her face twisted with hunger, violently thrust her hands into Sally’s chest to viciously tear out her still-beating heart. A fountain of pulsing blood sprayed in a macabre arc and pooled on the concrete floor of the dumpster enclosure. The hot liquid coated Nia. Sally’s eyes bulged as she gasped for air like rancid rot filling her lungs. She struggled to scream as her throat was slashed deep until it split open from neck to hipbone. Sally’s lifeless body slumped to the gravel with her mouth agape, her eyes fixed on the underworld. Nia howled like a crazed animal, at the fresh carnage before her. She stares hungrily at the gory meal.

Nia slurped the mangled “snack” of Officer Winters outside.

Inside the room above, Antonio and Candace sat on a worn motel bed. In the dimly lit motel room, the atmosphere thick with anticipation, Antonio’s hand slid across Candace’s thigh. Her eyes closed as she reveled in the intimacy. A gentle smile played on her lips as his eyes filled with desire. As their eyes met, a spark of familiarity and affection ignited between them. The husband’s touch was tender yet purposeful, as his hand gently caressed his wife’s cheek. His fingers traced the contours of her face. The room was filled with the comfort of centuries spent together. Her gaze filled with excitement and vulnerability, responding to her husband. Her breath caught in her throat as she felt the heat of his body against hers. The air in the room became charged with a potent blend of desire and love. Their hunger for proteins and amino acids from their transformation fell away for a time.

Their bodies moved in synchrony, guided by a deep connection that transcended words. Antonio’s hands explored the curves of his wife’s body, tracing delicate paths of pleasure. Candace’s face showed a combination of longing and surrender, her eyes locked onto his, conveying profound trust and shared love that went beyond the physical.

As their embrace deepened, the room became a sanctuary where they intertwined. The sound of their whispered words, their tender caresses, and the rhythm of their breathing created a symphony, known only to them in that sacred moment. They looked into each other. "A in to me see" [intimacy] on an unexplainable level.

In this motel room, away from the world, their love was rekindled, their desires fulfilled. Their connection, strengthened by years of shared experiences, found a new expression between them. The boundaries of time and space fade away, leaving only the profound bond of their marriage and the intoxicating power of their shared passion. Passion spewed forth like angry seeds to fertile earth.

Almost an hour later, Candace stood under steamy water in the shower. Mist covered the mirror. Her eyes shone with contentment. Her lips curled in a peaceful smile. Antonio laid under the sheet, listening to Candace in the shower.

Antonio shouted above to be heard over a deluge of hot water. “Want me to wash your back?”

Candace replied as she lathered her hair with shampoo, “No, my love. We’d never finish getting clean.”

Antonio flirted with his words, “We could try. Besides, I love marinating with your juices.”

There was a knock on the door. He rose, wrapped in a sheet, and opened the door. Nia stood at the entrance. Her eyes caught her uncle’s bare chest and obvious manhood under the thin, cheap sheet. “I’m going to have nightmares now.”